In His Name, All Torture Shall Cease
Is it time to be outraged yet? Are we allowed to be up in arms now?
'Cause I'm mad. I'm damn man.
Granted, directionless internet rage is not always the catalyst for change my generation hopes it be. Still, there's something to be said for speaking out, for making use of one's sphere of influence to at least raise awareness and shed light on issues that aren't getting the attention they deserve.
The squeaky wheel gets the grease, as they say.
And while my sphere of influence, at least as far as this blog is concerned, is thirty or so people, I find it worthwhile still to shout my hopefully-prophetic calls into the void.
You may say I'm a dreamer. But, ya know...
So here's the deal: The cherry on top of this awful, pitiful year, of senseless killings, international unrest and racial tension, is the recently-released this Senate report verifying our military's use of torture techniques to acquire enemy intelligence throughout our war efforts in the Middle East.
And by and large people are being... pretty chill about it. Or at least compared to how I feel.
I don't know about you, but I hear a lot of people say the U.S. is, or should be, a Christian nation. Founding fathers, national heritage, yada yada yada. You'd think by the sound of it our nation was founded by the Apostle Paul or Saint Augustine.
Now, ignoring the fact that our actual founding fathers were largely more agnostic, deistic or Unitarian than explicitly Christian, the truth of the matter is that our nation is only "Christian" insofar as it represents and embodies (as much as a nation can) the ethics of Jesus Christ, the commands to feed and clothe the poor and hungry, to love our enemies and walk humbly with our God.
But this is not, nor has it ever been, the case with our nation. No, instead of the counter-cultural, counter-intuitive ethic of love and sacrifice modeled by Jesus, we have the American Dream. This uniquely American narrative teaches that that matters most is security, safety, and comfort. And anything or anyone threatening to compromise these pillars of our national faith is fair game. No action is too extreme, no retribution too ruthless to maintain our own comfort and safety.
What American Christianity adds to our historical and Biblical understandings of the Way of Christ is an odd, unequal marriage between these two (antithetical) ideas: sacrifice out of love and comfort enforced by fear. Indeed, these two are oil and water. They cannot both remain top priority in our minds and hearts. Either we love our enemies or we dispose of them. We cannot do both.
So when I hear of the graphic, unconscionable actions taken against our national "enemies" in the name of securing our own safety, I first cringe and then scoff again at the idea that we are a Christian nation. We cannot even hope to be such, not when we treat God's beloved children worse than dogs.
Please hear and believe I am not condoning the actions of terrorists. All those guilty of war and civil crimes ought to be brought to justice, subject to trial and punishment. I only ask they be offered due process and not be robbed of their innate human dignity. Even terrorists are, after all, people.
You see, that's the different between tyranny and a free, democratic society. We, in a democracy, ought to be the ones who offer even our enemies acknowledgement of their humanity.
I wish I could believe this to be true about my country, that we represent a commitment to human worth and dignity, but given the information in the Senate's report (to say nothing of the hundred other examples throughout our history), we simply do not. We are compromised. We are stooping to the level of those we criticize for their barbarism.
Some have claimed the lack of civility and respect for humankind exhibited by our enemies warrants an-kind response on our part. I disagree.
They say we must fight fire with fire, which is funny, because it's always seemed apparent to me that the better way to fight fire is with water. Adding fire to fire would only make for a bigger fire.
There is no ends-justify-the-means argument to be made for torture. We cannot repay evil with evil in this way and hope to retain any sort of moral high ground on the other side. Only good can defeat evil. In the words of Dr. King, "hate cannot run out hate; only love can do that."
Also, on a pragmatic level, torture does not produce reliable information. Victims will say anything and everything in order to survive, rendering information collected under duress virtually useless. Don't take my word for it. Listen to someone who would know.
So what now? What do we do this information?
I'm afraid at the moment, I have only a few musings. Not a bad start, but certainly not enough.
Given the season, I've been reflecting on this development through the lens of Christmas. In doing so, I thought of a line from the old carol "O Holy Night: "Truly He [Jesus] taught us to love one another, and in His name, all oppression shall cease."
All oppression shall cease.
Imagine the weight of these words when they were written. John Sullivan Dwight, 19th century minister and abolitionist, wrote the English translation of O Holy Night (originally in French) in 1855, and it spread like wildfire among abolitionists in the following years. Even then, the words were intended to spur Christians on toward present justice.
You may say I'm a dreamer. But, ya know...
So here's the deal: The cherry on top of this awful, pitiful year, of senseless killings, international unrest and racial tension, is the recently-released this Senate report verifying our military's use of torture techniques to acquire enemy intelligence throughout our war efforts in the Middle East.
And by and large people are being... pretty chill about it. Or at least compared to how I feel.
I don't know about you, but I hear a lot of people say the U.S. is, or should be, a Christian nation. Founding fathers, national heritage, yada yada yada. You'd think by the sound of it our nation was founded by the Apostle Paul or Saint Augustine.
Now, ignoring the fact that our actual founding fathers were largely more agnostic, deistic or Unitarian than explicitly Christian, the truth of the matter is that our nation is only "Christian" insofar as it represents and embodies (as much as a nation can) the ethics of Jesus Christ, the commands to feed and clothe the poor and hungry, to love our enemies and walk humbly with our God.
But this is not, nor has it ever been, the case with our nation. No, instead of the counter-cultural, counter-intuitive ethic of love and sacrifice modeled by Jesus, we have the American Dream. This uniquely American narrative teaches that that matters most is security, safety, and comfort. And anything or anyone threatening to compromise these pillars of our national faith is fair game. No action is too extreme, no retribution too ruthless to maintain our own comfort and safety.
What American Christianity adds to our historical and Biblical understandings of the Way of Christ is an odd, unequal marriage between these two (antithetical) ideas: sacrifice out of love and comfort enforced by fear. Indeed, these two are oil and water. They cannot both remain top priority in our minds and hearts. Either we love our enemies or we dispose of them. We cannot do both.
So when I hear of the graphic, unconscionable actions taken against our national "enemies" in the name of securing our own safety, I first cringe and then scoff again at the idea that we are a Christian nation. We cannot even hope to be such, not when we treat God's beloved children worse than dogs.
Please hear and believe I am not condoning the actions of terrorists. All those guilty of war and civil crimes ought to be brought to justice, subject to trial and punishment. I only ask they be offered due process and not be robbed of their innate human dignity. Even terrorists are, after all, people.
You see, that's the different between tyranny and a free, democratic society. We, in a democracy, ought to be the ones who offer even our enemies acknowledgement of their humanity.
I wish I could believe this to be true about my country, that we represent a commitment to human worth and dignity, but given the information in the Senate's report (to say nothing of the hundred other examples throughout our history), we simply do not. We are compromised. We are stooping to the level of those we criticize for their barbarism.
Some have claimed the lack of civility and respect for humankind exhibited by our enemies warrants an-kind response on our part. I disagree.
There is no ends-justify-the-means argument to be made for torture. We cannot repay evil with evil in this way and hope to retain any sort of moral high ground on the other side. Only good can defeat evil. In the words of Dr. King, "hate cannot run out hate; only love can do that."
Also, on a pragmatic level, torture does not produce reliable information. Victims will say anything and everything in order to survive, rendering information collected under duress virtually useless. Don't take my word for it. Listen to someone who would know.
So what now? What do we do this information?
I'm afraid at the moment, I have only a few musings. Not a bad start, but certainly not enough.
Given the season, I've been reflecting on this development through the lens of Christmas. In doing so, I thought of a line from the old carol "O Holy Night: "Truly He [Jesus] taught us to love one another, and in His name, all oppression shall cease."
All oppression shall cease.
Imagine the weight of these words when they were written. John Sullivan Dwight, 19th century minister and abolitionist, wrote the English translation of O Holy Night (originally in French) in 1855, and it spread like wildfire among abolitionists in the following years. Even then, the words were intended to spur Christians on toward present justice.
Think about the same sentiment applied to Jesus' day. His people, who had been passed between one oppressor and another for generations, would have been within their rights to feel forgotten and abandoned by their God. But what if, in that God's name, all oppression may cease? That would change everything.
In fact, this idea may serve as a profound source of comfort to the oppressed of any nation. It is good news, indeed. But to the oppressors, it is decidedly bad news.
And in our case, given our nation's decision to combat terrorism by torture, we have become the oppressor. No matter our enemies' crimes, our use of dignity-robbing, life-stealing torture denies us our claim to virtue.
In God's name, even America will be called upon to lay down her oppressive ways. This may be stark news to some who have celebrated the marriage of the Christian Way and the American Dream, but to those oppressed by such systems, it is true cause for celebration.
I think back to Mary, as I do from time to time during the Christmas season. I think about a song she composed and sang in response to her own divine calling. It's called the Magnificat (found in Luke 1:46-55):
In fact, this idea may serve as a profound source of comfort to the oppressed of any nation. It is good news, indeed. But to the oppressors, it is decidedly bad news.
And in our case, given our nation's decision to combat terrorism by torture, we have become the oppressor. No matter our enemies' crimes, our use of dignity-robbing, life-stealing torture denies us our claim to virtue.
In God's name, even America will be called upon to lay down her oppressive ways. This may be stark news to some who have celebrated the marriage of the Christian Way and the American Dream, but to those oppressed by such systems, it is true cause for celebration.
I think back to Mary, as I do from time to time during the Christmas season. I think about a song she composed and sang in response to her own divine calling. It's called the Magnificat (found in Luke 1:46-55):
My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for He has looked with favor on His humble servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed,
the Almighty has done great things for me,
and holy is His Name.
He has mercy on those who fear Him
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm,
He has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,
and has lifted up the humble.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich He has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of His servant Israel
for He has remembered his promise of mercy,
the promise He made to our fathers,
to Abraham and his children for ever.
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| For more on Christ and torture, read W.T. Cavanaugh's Torture & Eucharist |
May we, then, strive not to be the oppressors. That is really all I ask. May we actually put the words of Christ to action instead of posturing and blustering while our hands commit atrocities. May God humble us, and strip us of our power, that we may not use it to oppress and subjugate.
There is no Christian case for torture.
Neither is there a human case for torture, by the way. Even those without explicit belief in God can see the hypocrisy and injustice at work in our systems and policies. Perhaps they can especially, because they are not blinded by the fallacious notion that our atrocities are sanctioned by God and His providence.
But ultimately, friends, I am calling on those who profess Christ to embody the Spirit of God by standing against torture. Even if it's our tribe doing the torturing. Especially then.
Lord have mercy.
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